Inhale
by Sora Livana
Summary: What is supposed to be nothing more than a day out hunting becomes a lot more when something unexpected happens...
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N**: This is my first Merlin fan fiction, although I have written fan fiction before for other fandoms. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this. I intend for this to have several chapters, though I know myself and motivation generally depends on what sort of response I receive, so be kind and review, even if it's only a few words ^-^  
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**Chapter 1  
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Gone was the pale and weak morning sun of the winter months, replaced by an annoyingly bright and cheerful orb that beamed in the early hours and had a frustrating habit of falling through Merlin's cracked window and landing on his face; reminding him painfully that a new day had arrived which in turn meant an early morning and more work than he'd ever enjoy. Groaning loudly and dramatically, he rolled over onto his side and debated the merits of hacking off maybe a couple of limbs and getting a few days off so that he could actually lie-in for once, before realising that even becoming a double amputee would probably not be enough for Arthur to give him the day off.

Throwing off the meagre piece of cloth that constituted his bed cover, he groaned again and prepared himself for the day; scowling good-naturedly all the while at the annoyingly chirpy sunshine beaming at him from outside. He seemed to ache all over and had apparently had quite a bad night, having knocked an unlit candle onto the floor for whatever reason. Probably another nightmare. He seemed to be having far too many bad dreams lately; they generally seemed related to lots of wood, being tied up and burning.

Although, there were _other_ things in them too….

Absently pulling his clothes on (and, of course, his ever-present neckerchief) he made his way out of his room and into Gaius' chambers. Grinning at the old physician, who was already up even at this time in the morning, he stumbled around the room collecting together anything he may need during the course of the day.

"Morning Merlin. There's some porridge on the table," the old man gestured to a steaming wooden bowl.

"Thanks. How's Mrs Picket? Did she have the baby?"

"Yes, and they're both doing well." Merlin wasn't surprised at how tired his mentor looked; he had apparently been up all night with the birthing woman. Glancing out of the window, he noticed the still-damp ground.

"We had another shower last night?"

"And this morning - you were far too deeply asleep to notice." There was a pointed look on Gauis' face, and Merlin realised he'd probably noticed that the younger man had been having somewhat disturbed sleep lately. Giving him a sheepish smile, he didn't bother talking about it; Gaius knew him just about as well as he knew himself. No doubt he understood perfectly well the reasons why he was being plagued by these nightmares.

"I can always give you something to help, if needs be Merlin. You look absolutely shattered nowadays."

Merlin just shook his head, "Don't worry Gaius - it's nothing major. They'll go away on their own sooner or later." That and the fact that he didn't want to tell Gauis _all _the content of his dreams. After all, the damned things weren't _just_ about being executed (no matter how horrible those parts were), and there were some things he wanted to keep to himself. He'd much rather Gauis just forgot about the subject. Glancing outside once again and noting how high the sun was in the sigh, he stood up sharply.

Realising how close he was cutting it and the imminent risk of having his head bitten off by an irate Arthur (who was as good at mornings as Merlin was), he hurriedly slurped down the not-pleasant yet not-horrible porridge offered to him, gave Gaius a hasty goodbye and rushed out of the door, very nearly knocking over a passing servant girl. Apologising before he hurried once again on his way, he took the stairs two at a time as he made his way up to his master's room before mentally slapping himself, remembering that he had to get Arthur's breakfast first, going all the way back downstairs to the kitchen and then trying it again. This morning was not going particularly well.

One of the brighter parts of his morning was always undoubtedly waking up Arthur. Throwing the curtains open and putting on a show of enthusiasm, Merlin rudely ripped Arthur out of his sleep, avoiding missiles along the lines of pillows and even a shoe as his master emerged rather unwillingly from the land of nod, a grimace marring his usually dignified features.

"Nice to know I'm appreciated," he grinned in his master's direction. The only response he got was an unintelligible, mutinous muttering from the direction of the bed. Loudly, he put the breakfast onto the table and got to work preparing for the day. Just as he was about to take a pile of laundry (including socks which were practically _walking_) down to the laundry, Arthur stopped him.

"No chores today, Merlin. We're going hunting." He paused, waiting for Merlin's inevitable complaints. He wasn't disappointed.

"Why do you feel a compulsive need to slaughter cute, furry animals?" Merlin couldn't help himself. It was probably a good thing that despite being a master and servant, their relationship was closer to that of a friendship. He would have spent a lot more time in the stocks had it been otherwise; most masters wouldn't tolerate backchat.

"Why are you such a girl?"

"Immature. Haven't you got any better insults yet? Oh wait, you need _intelligence_ for that." At this, he quite immaturely stuck out his tongue before ducking once again, this time to avoid a random cup.

"What was that, Merlin?"

"Nothing…" Mumble, " _Prat…"_

"_G-irl_."

This was the conversation they ended up having every single time Arthur decided to go hunting. Having been raised in the Royal households this was how he was accustomed to passing time whilst also showing his worth to both the people and his father. Merlin, on the other hand, couldn't understand how anybody could take joy in killing an innocent animal when there wasn't any need. Whilst they always consumed whatever had been hunted, it seemed such a waste when there wasn't any actual food shortage. Their light banter continued until Arthur launched into his breakfast and Merlin headed off down to the stables to prepare the horses.

By the time he had the horses saddled and ready Arthur was making his way to the courtyard, walking with the confidence and authority acquired through the knowledge that you are far superior to all around you. Merlin rolled his eyes, leading Llamrei, Arthur's horse, into the yard so that his master could mount. Fumbling with the reins and throwing them over the mare's head, he bent over in a manner most undignified and allowed Arthur to place a large boot on his back, and swing up onto the saddle. Dryly, he thought to himself that it was probably a good thing that servants didn't have much dignity to lose in the first place. Once Arthur was mounted he proceeded to haul himself disgracefully onto his own horse (or, at least, the one he was using for today. Servants didn't get their own horses). Unsteadily, he sat upright before floundering around and checking they had all they needed.

"Oh, do get a move on Merlin. I have an entire day of hunting planned – taking into account your usual ineptitude – and I don't need any more delays!"

Merlin allowed for a cute pout to form before ignoring that comment and responding.

"Where are the other knights? Why aren't they coming – I mean, the usually do." He was slightly perplexed at this change from the norm.

"Not today. Father has some business that needs attending yet which apparently does not require my presence." Arthur scowled, and Merlin knew that he was frustrated that the father he was always so eager to please found it so easy to simply dismiss him without any justification. Shrugging it off, he pushed his mare into a trot and set off out of the courtyard, Merlin close behind.

The weather was pleasant; not too hot but neither too chilly. Spring was now in full force and all around flowers were poking their heads out and the shoots of new plants were forcing their way out of the slightly slushy ground. Whilst for several days they had been plagued by shower after shower, it seemed that on this day the clouds had temporarily been vanquished by the sun and the entire forest seemed to be alive, birds singing and chirping, the trees swaying and humming in the breeze; they were surrounded by a cacophony of sound.

In the distance Merlin could see the peaks of the nearby mountains, still capped with snow. Whilst the weather in Camelot was rapidly improving it had apparently not spread much further. However, he was grateful that the abysmal season of winter had finally come to a close and that they could actually get out and do things now. Whilst killing innocent animals was hardly fun, it was nowhere near as bad as Arthur when he was confined within the great walls of the castle for days upon days. It was at those times that he tended to start going 'stir crazy', for which Merlin was the one who ended up suffering with his sore temper and mood swings. It was tiring: walking on eggshells all day long.

As the horses trotted along the pair of them chattered light-heartedly, Merlin getting Arthur up to date with a seemingly endless list of castle-gossip, nattering mindlessly and setting off in occasional bouts of laughter which were contagious. Arthur mainly listened, interjecting occasionally for more details. Just as Merlin was laughingly telling him about an incident involving the cook, a large pan and an unfortunate servant, Arthur raised his hand for silence and drew his mare to a halt.

Out of his peripheral vision he had caught sight of a potential prey, a large stag grazing contently in the distance, within a slight clearing amongst the trees. Motioning to Merlin, he then proceeded to kick his horse into action, leaping after the unfortunate creature and leaving Merlin in his wake. Sighing and rolling his eyes, Merlin followed, albeit at a slightly slower pace. He was fully aware that if he actually got involved in the hunt he'd just screw it up and end up having to deal with an annoyed Arthur for the next few days. Steering his reluctant mare - who evidently wanted to stay close to the other horse - to the left of the direction in which Arthur had ridden, he figured that he could cut across the woodland and meet Arthur after he'd finished having his fun.

Keeping the mare at a walking pace, Merlin made his way slowly through the forest, mumbling to himself irritably as he kept getting caught in branches and brambles which scratched his skin raw in places. Just as he was beginning to regret his choice to take this particular route, the ground suddenly gave way beneath him. Letting out a loud yelp and desperately pulling back the horse, he could do nothing as he plummeted into the seeming abyss that had opened beneath their very feet.

Stag over his shoulder and very smug, Arthur looked around for his wayward manservant. It was only as he was heading in the direction of where he'd last seen him with a sigh of exasperation that he heard a loud cry somewhere in the forest. Breath catching and ice clasping his heart, he ignored the difficulties of the terrain and pushed Llamrei as fast as she could go.

On the ground behind him, the carcass of the once magnificent stag lay forgotten.

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_**A/N**: Well there it was! I hope you're enjoying it so far, and I shall remind you to 'read and review' ;)_

_Additional note - 'Llamrei' is the name of one of King Arthur's steeds within the Arthurian legends, hence my choice of it as his mare's name within this piece._


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: **Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews guys - they're the only thing that motivates me to write ^-^_

_So thanks to: dddead, ruby890, Nija assasian, Nightmare-Naka, mIsS-vOlTuRi-PrInCeSs, MizzSY, Lady Asteri, and all of you who have favourited or added me to your alert! ^-^_

_Just so you're all aware, updates will be rather sporadic although I have no intention of leaving this fic - I'm entering a very coursework-heavy period at Sixth Form so my time for creative writing has been severely limited.  
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**Chapter 2**

Riding heavily in the general direction of the cry, he ultimately had to abandon his horse as the dense forest prevented him from continuing to ride on horseback. Tying her to a convenient tree and leaving her to graze, he forced his way through the undergrowth; cursing brambles and briars as they ripped at the skin on his hands and tangled in his tussled hair, he couldn't help but wonder what Merlin had been doing all the way over here anyways. Finally breaking through the tangled web of scrub, only by reflexively reaching out and grasping a nearby branch did he stop himself from tumbling into the cavernous hole that gaped in front of him.

The horse Merlin had been using was lying in a pathetic pile at the bottom of this apparent cliff face, neck obviously broken from the fall, cuts and abrasions littering the poor thing's body, no doubt from the barrage of rocks it had encountered on it's unfortunate fall. Glancing around frantically, Arthur attempted to spot his manservant and friend, allowing a few desperate seconds to pass before his eyes rested on the sorry sight.

Merlin was slumped to the one side of what was apparently some sort of cave; what Arthur now realised to be some gloomy cavern dropping steeply into the floor of the forest. Clambering down gracefully with the help of outcrops and the many vines (and other forms of plant life) grasping to the rock face, Arthur deftly jumped the last couple of metres before pulling himself upright to get a good look around. The floor was littered with general forest material, but amongst the debris he could see quite chillingly the bones of various small – and some not so small - mammals. He felt lead settle in his stomach as his eyes rested on a stripped and partially-shattered human skull; whatever inhabited this cave evidently wasn't adverse to including people in its diet. Well, even if he did get the hell out of this place, he'd have to gather the knights and some back; he couldn't be having with any creature eating the people of his kingdom. Absently, he tried to recall of there had been any reports of people vanishing in the vicinity.

It seemed far too silent, and this made Arthur uneasy as he trod carefully and began to walk over to his unconscious manservant, intent on checking for any particularly bad injuries. Even from a distance he could see the impressive gash across the top of his head, a cruel scarlet streak standing out against the paleness of his skin. Merlin was completely out cold, showing no sign of waking; worrying for Arthur, who knew from prior experience how severe head wounds could be. Even in the murk his pallor was shockingly apparent, almost illuminating his face in the murk of the cavernous hole.

The little bones crackled and crumbled beneath his boots.

As he made his way over he momentarily allowed his attention to lapse as he mentally chastised Merlin's uselessness. How was it that he always seemed to get himself into dangerous situations? It seemed like every week that something happened which resulted in him getting himself injured; whether it was his own clumsiness whilst out hunting or the far more severe situation of annoying a powerful sorcerer (which, now he thought about, seemed to happen on a far too regular basis – how was Merlin even still alive? Mind you, Merlin never seemed to be around when all the action was going about; Arthur usually found him in a corner somewhere or hiding under a table. So really, it was no surprise the coward always got out alive). He quite quickly got distracted by this new train of thought, and he briefly forgot where he was and the situation he was in before he recalled the numerous injuries Merlin always seemed to mysteriously acquire.

A mildly irritated scowl graced his features as the thought occurred.

There was another crunch but Arthur thought nothing of it. He realised far too late that he hadn't felt himself tread on anything that would warrant such a noise and spun around just in time to allow a flicker of horror pass over his face, before stumbling clumsily sideways in avoidance of a large beast that was quite determinedly attempting to butcher him. Scrambling to his feet hastily, he didn't have time to gape at what was presented to him before it bore down on him once again.

The beast leapt; a whirlwind of teeth and claws with the sole intention of ending his life in one bloody swipe. Barely avoiding one arcing claw, Arthur leapt backwards, dodging and parrying as he allowed his mind to catch up with rapidly progressing events. Swinging his sword in an opportunistic blow, the creature moved swiftly, lunging forward and ripping through his chain mail - gouging his clothing and leaving the layers underneath tattered. Lashing at him again, only a fortunate stumble backwards as he unbalanced on a small rock prevented the beast from shredding his flesh, wrenching through his ribcage and piercing his heart.

Breathing ragged and tortuous, and back now bruised from his rough fall to the hard ground, Arthur rolled frantically to avoid the onslaught and took refuge beneath an outcrop of rock jutting out of the cave wall. The light level was meagre at best, barring a single beam of light piercing though the murk and illuminating the dense gloom fractionally. The monster howled and began to scrabble, clawing underneath the outcrop in an attempt to execute the prey that was now out of its reach. Groaning to himself as torn and terrifyingly long barbed claws shredded the air only inches away from him, Arthur realised that his sword was out of reach; he could see a faint gleaming regardless to the fresh flecks of blood near the opening of the cavern, and there was no chance of him being able to reacquire it. Heart pounding within his chest, he realised with horror that the only way he'd be able to get out of this horrific situation alive would be if the creature gave up or got distracted.

In other words, he had no chance.

Exhausted and in shock, the severity of his predicament began to sink in. It was hopeless; there was no one else to help him get out of this situation and the beast was getting more and more frantic with every passing second. He was aching and sore and very soon his life would be over in a cruel and quick blow. Morosely, his mind wondered over to thoughts of Merlin, slumped and unconscious. He hadn't been able to save him; despite all of his bravado and bluster and general arrogance with regards to his sword skills, they were both going to die here in a cave in the middle of nowhere and he was absolutely helpless. A bitter guilt worked its way though his soul as he realised that he'd failed not only his manservant, but a good friend as well.

He hoped, nay prayed, that Merlin would remain unconscious. It would be far too cruel for him to see what was coming next. He allowed his posture to slump and closed his eyes in defeat...

A flash of gold flickered in the corner of his eye.

_Sorcery!_

The creature's onslaught ceased suddenly, a crashing silence falling upon the cavern as the last echoes of the fight faded into nothingness. Struggling from his sanctuary and onto his feet, Arthur went to grab his sword before wielding it protectively, frantically looking around in a vain attempt to locate the source of the magic that had been used so flauntingly in his presence. But, like a cemetery in the dead of night, all was silent; besides his own racking breath and the metallic rustling of his shredded chain mail, there was nothing.

Nothing besides Merlin, that is.

Bewildered, he couldn't help but gape; stunned and unable to comprehend. The beast had been thrown back violently by an invisible hand, smashing hard against the floor and lying there – immobile and apparently lifeless. Merlin was still seemingly dead to the world, but Arthur could not delude himself – the gold flash had come from his manservant's direction and there was no one else whom it could possibly be. He was a fool; he had been harbouring a sorcerer - a practitioner of magic and evil - for years without even realising. At once he could hear, see nor feeling nothing but the crashing realisation of betrayal.

But there wasn't time for that.

Pushing away all thoughts of evil and the crushing betrayal grasping his frantically beating heart, Arthur made his way over to Merlin, though not before impaling the stricken beast lest it suddenly acquire a new lease of life and return to the fray. As he crouched before the younger boy, it became apparent that the gash was the least of Merlin's injuries; a large wound that was either a bite or inflicted by claws was slowly seeping blood, disguised up until this point by the brown-red shirt Merlin had chosen to wear that day.

Without stopping to allow his thoughts to dwell on this revelation, Arthur hoisted his wounded 'friend' over his shoulder - noting his laboured breathing - and negotiated his way back into the blinding sunlight of the oddly peaceful forest; the juxtaposition of the violence in the cavern and this serene setting a stark contrast to his battered soul.

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_**A/N** - same drill as ever guys and gals - review and I'll give you a virtual cookeh :P_


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